


Snow Day

by wintershelter



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Snowball Fight, like tooth rooting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:31:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6106446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintershelter/pseuds/wintershelter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Central City gets some snow. Mick decides they should have a snowball fight. Len is not amused (except he actually is).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Day

“Lenny! Wake up.” A rough warm hand shook him from his slumber.

Len snapped one eye open, seeing Mick’s face. He looked excited, border lining gleeful, which was saying something, especially this early in the morning. Mick, by no means, was what you would consider a ‘morning person’.

He opened both eyes, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

“Get dressed and get your ass outside.” Mick said.

Len sat up quizzically. Mick was already dressed, boots and all. He seemed ready to burst, his energy was near palpable.

“Why? What’s going on?” but even as he asked the question, Len was was already getting out of bed and walking to the dresser.

“Less talk, more getting dressed.” And if that didn’t amuse Len. He had heard the exact opposite words come out of Mick’s mouth on more than one occasion this past week alone.

Mick was being deliberately secretive. Len was never one for surprises but he didn’t press Mick. His curiosity for Mick’s behavior winning over any need to control the situation.

As Len finished lacing up his boots, he stole a quick glance at Mick. He stood by the door, tapping his foot impatiently, uncrossing his arms as he saw Len tie the last knot on his boot.

“C’mon Cold, let’s go.” Mick said, gesturing towards the door.

Len humored his partner, making his way toward him. Mick opened the door for Len and he walked out of the warehouse and straight into…

Len let out a breath and looked around. Behind him he could hear Mick closing the door behind the two of them, but he was too busy taking in the scenery around him.

“So, whatcha think?” Mick quipped and Len turned his head to the side, seeing Mick’s positively glowing face. Len felt the slight tickle of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth in response.

All of Central City was covered in a fresh blanket of snow. Len hadn’t been aware that there was even supposed to be a storm, wondering for a moment if Mardon was responsible for this. Everywhere the eye could was white. There were no footsteps, no people… Just him and Mick standing in the open space.

Len looked down the alley, still taking everything in. This had been the first real snowfall they’d gotten this winter. Momentarily distracted, he missed the unmistakable crunch of snow being compacted together and without any preamble, Len felt a cold wet ball hit the back of his neck.

He let out a surprised huff, whirling around to face Mick. Mick eyes were alight with mischief, delight coloring his expression.

“You should not have done that.” Len growled.

The bastard just fucking laughed at him and without a word, began his retreat down the alleyway.  
Len followed, snow making satisfying crunches beneath his boots with every step.

Mick rounded the corner of the warehouse; his first mistake. Len wasn’t stupid. He knew Mick was just lying in wait beyond his vantage point.

Len took this opportunity to duck out of view behind a snow covered garbage can. He quickly made three snowballs and waited. He didn’t have to wait long; Mick was never one for patience.

The second he saw Mick’s face peak out from behind his hiding spot, Len put his plan into motion. He whipped his arm back and threw a snowball straight at Mick.

Mick easily avoided it, face disappearing again. Len launched himself forward, one snowball in each hand. Rounding the corner, he threw each snowball in quick succession, hitting Mick square in the chest with expert precision.

A laugh threatened to bubble up Len’s throat at the absolutely scandalized expression on Mick’s face. The look was gone in an instant though, determination replacing it as Mick barreled towards Len. Len jumped back and made off back down the alley. He was fast, but Mick was soon right behind him. Mick grabbed Len’s hood and he was graced with the feeling of snow being shoved down the back of his parka.

Len shrieked (something he’ll swear he didn’t do to this very day) as he stopped running, spinning around to face Mick. The larger man’s breath was puffing out white smoke as he let out a laugh at the indignant noise.

“You absolute animal!” Len said, but despite the harsh words, his tone held more amusement than actual wrath.

Mick gave him a lopsided grin and Len reached down and deliberately dumped two heaping fistfuls of snow right on top of Mick’s smug head. He smirked at the action.

Mick and Len stared each other for a long pause, snow slowly dripping down their bodies. This was reprieve was short lived, the stillness turning into a rush of limbs as they both dissembled into chaos. Each man had the same idea, just picking up snow and throwing it haphazardly at the other. They were past the point of making snowballs, just opting to throw the loose powdery snow at the other.

Soon, both of them were out of breath, arms hanging limp at their sides, all competitiveness gone from their stances. The snow was glistening all over the fronts of their clothes, the sunlight catching the crystals with each heaving breath. Len felt a warmth rise up from the pit of his stomach despite the chilly air. He grabbed Mick’s jacket and pulled him into his space, pressing their bodies together.

Mick looped an arm around Len’s waist, crowding himself closer. Len moved his arms up, detouring to wipe some errant snow that hadn’t yet melted from the top of Mick’s head, before letting his hands rest comfortably on Mick’s shoulders.

Len was the first to move forward, his lips catching Mick’s. The warm contrast of the contact had both of them deepening the kiss.

Getting lost in the feeling, Mick moved his hands to Len’s hips, needing to feel his skin. He crept them underneath the hem of his parka, which would have been welcome at any other time, but the contact made Len jump.

“My God, Mick. Your hands are ice.” Len broke off the kiss, protesting the cold fingers.

“I can think of a few ways to warm them up.”

Len could feel the rumble in Mick’s chest at the words and he felt a shiver run through him that had nothing to do with the temperature of Mick’s hands. Mick grinned as felt the motion and proceeded to lick a long stripe up Len’s neck, catching some of the melting snow before it had the chance to slip down the collar of Len’s shirt.

Len licked his chapped lips and angled his head so he could whisper in Mick’s ear, “what do you have in mind?” his voice a low purr.

“First, we take a nice, long, steamy shower,” Mick said, dragging out the words, “followed by spending the rest of the day not leaving our bed.” Mick grabbed Len’s ass through his jeans and Len shifted closer to Mick. His words, normally so direct, were no more than feather light insinuation of what he had in mind and for some reason, it drove Len wild.

“Hmm… Throw in some hot cocoa and it sounds like a plan.” Len drawled, keeping his tone even, though he knew Mick could tell the effect his words had on Len.

“You got it,” Mick responded, catching Len’s mouth in another toe curling kiss before they made their way inside.

 

* * *

Hours later found Mick handing Len a steaming cup of hot cocoa, though you’d never know it since the entire top of the liquid was covered in a huge mound of marshmallows.

Mick lifted up the blanket and scooched his way back in, finding his familiar spot next to Len, his own mug of cocoa warming his hand.

Len popped a marshmallow into his mouth and moved his head so it was resting against the side of Mick’s shoulder. Mick wrapped his free arm around Len, snuggling close.

Len took a sip of his drink, a content look spreading across his face. He felt completely at ease. He turned his head up, smiling up at his partner. Mick caught his look, a smile of his own already resting on his face.

They were criminals. They stole paintings and prized jewels; ancient artifacts and family heirlooms. They were hardened by prison and years of living in the shadows, staying just off the edge of anyone’s radar, but none of this mattered at the moment. Here and now, in the privacy of each other’s company, they were just two people. Two people who shouldn’t have worked, but did. One was fire, the other ice, yet together, they positively melted around one another, fitting like a puzzle.

Mick placed a gentle kiss to Len’s temple, before turning to take a sip of his own drink.

Each of the men sat in the comfortable silence of the warehouse as Central City, cloaked in a snow, allowed both heroes and criminals alike to rest. Criminals or not, they knew most things were best enjoyed in the company of others. And snow days were no exception.

**Author's Note:**

> This got a bit sappy towards the end. Inspired by the fact I am currently snowed into my apartment.


End file.
